


Static Cling

by adiduck (book_people)



Series: Heterodyne!Sorin FanFanFic [9]
Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Clothed Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, it's not my fault they make the stuff by the barrels, no canon characters, unholy amounts of sap with your smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 02:33:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4546842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/book_people/pseuds/adiduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>He found Sorin in the forge, which wasn’t a surprise at all, and so engrossed in his thing that he didn’t even turn around, which was. Well, either that or Sorin was still annoyed that Velimir had gone off for two weeks with a handful of other Guard members to fight a pack of acid-spitting cheetah constructs and made Sorin stay behind and drive the Caterpillar </i>out<i> of their territory…</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Static Cling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Askerian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askerian/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Nuée Ardente](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2067129) by [Asuka Kureru (Askerian)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askerian/pseuds/Asuka%20Kureru). 



> This set about four months after Mechanicsburg is retaken, so something between five and six years after Shock Hazard. It is also Asuka's birthday gift. She is getting it early because I am bad at waiting for things and have no self control. :X
> 
> Um, at least you all know the UST is eventually resolved?

He found Sorin in the forge, which wasn’t a surprise at all, and so engrossed in his thing that he didn’t even turn around, which was. Well, either that or Sorin was still annoyed that Velimir had gone off for two weeks with a handful of other Guard members to fight a pack of acid-spitting cheetah constructs and made Sorin stay behind and drive the Caterpillar _out_ of their territory…

Veli closed the door behind him quietly, went to peer over Sorin’s shoulder at the thing—hrm, didn’t look like much, but that didn’t mean anything. It was the things without the bells and whistles that you needed to watch out for, with Sorin. And Sorin had probably been in here a while; he’d sweated straight through his shirt, and a few dark, too-long-again curls were stuck to the sweat on his neck, the rest tied out of his face with a dark bandana.

He smelled good, like sweat and smoke and steel and leather. Veli resisted the urge to kiss the skin under his ear, exposed from the pulled-back hair and flushed pink from the heat, and cleared his throat instead.

Sorin snorted, didn’t even pause. “Yes, hello,” he said. “I know you’re there, give me a minute.”

Awww… Veli pouted at Sorin’s head—Sorin wasn’t looking, but he snorted again anyway—and stepped back out of Sorin’s space. Oh well, he supposed it did make sense that they do master time before boyfriend time…

Sorin worked for another fifteen minutes, did something to the way the thing was curved that made Veli’s eyes cross a bit, quickly pounded it into—huh.

“Gauntlet?”

“Mm,” Sorin said. “Last piece of the prototype.” He plunged the gauntlet into the water, pulled it out and checked it over again with a critical eye. “Should give some protection against corrosive substances while assisting in increased speed. How’d it go?”

Heh. “De hunt? Preddy goot.” Sorin glanced at Veli over the gauntlet, eyebrow raised, jaw set on ‘pretending to be annoyed.’

“Thanks, that was really informative. I feel really informed.”

Veli grinned back, teasing. “Hyu vant a report now, den?”

Sorin’s mouth pursed, and he glanced back down at the gauntlet. “…Yeah, sure,” he said, and turned and bent over a drawer, rummaged a bit until he came up with an upper arm protector to go with the gauntlet. “Sit down, though, I want to check the fit of this while I’ve got you here.”

…D’awww, for him? Veli bit the inside of his lips until the urge to grin like a dope at Sorin went away—work time now, kisses and teasing about Sorin being worried later—shrugged instead. “Jah, hokay,” he said, and sat on the anvil (there was, in theory, a chair for people somewhere in this forge, but nobody had seen it for something like a year now, and nobody was invested enough in it to go through a Spark’s workspace looking for it).

“So ve ran into de tracks about vun hundret meters onto der plain—und hy tink hyu iz right dat all dat plain vhere de cheetahs vere vas a forest before, by der vay, dere vas an owl in dere dat hy tink lives mostly in de trees—“

“Mm,” Sorin agreed, and took Veli’s hand, stretched it out to strap the gauntlet on, ran his hands over the metal and straps—checking the fit. “We’ll have to go back and see if we can find the source for that. Make a fist, please.”

Veli made a fist. His fingers were covered completely—finely woven, super light steel, the links along the knuckles elongated enough to create spikes where his fingers folded—that’d make up for his claws being covered, probably. Nice. “Straps pull a leedle over mine jacket,” he opined.

“Hm,” Sorin said, and slid his fingers over the straps again, removed the gauntlet. “Jacket off. So a hundred meters—“

“Mm,” Veli said, slipping out of his jacket. “Vas four females und a male, vhich vas sorta veird for cheetahs hy tink? Hy saw some hunting... mebbe ninety years ago vhen ve fight vit der great Schpark tribes in de African continent vit Master Conrad, und dey vas mostly making packs vit littermates ov de same sex, not vit de boyfriend—dat iz definitely lions. Ennyvay, dey did de circle around os ting—“ Sorin tugged Veli’s shirt sleeve taut, slid the gauntlet back on and rebuckled—fingers light over Veli’s inner arm, ticklish. Veli blinked, and rolled his eyes at himself. He made a fist when Sorin began curling his fingers in, continued. “Dey vos focusing der acid schpitting at legs—Dario got hit, bot he cut avay de bit ov his boot und pant leg und it only got to his skin a little—so ve lead dem to some rocks for higher ground und jump down on dem from above.”

“Were the claws acidic?” Sorin asked. “Presumably if you were jumping onto cheetahs someone got mauled, so.” He picked up the upper arm piece, moved around behind Veli to fit it on—bent low over Veli’s shoulder as he stretched Veli’s arm out, breath fanning over Veli’s neck, the sensitive skin near his pulse point. Veli shivered.

“Ve tink dey vas licking dem, actually,” he said, “becawz der claws burned sometimes bot not all de time, und less after de first time.” Sorin’s fingers slid the straps, one under Veli’s arm and one near his armpit, and another strapped over his shoulder, fastened on the other side of his neck. Sorin’s fingers were bare, calluses scratchy on Veli’s skin.

“Hm,” Sorin said, and slid his fingers back over Veli’s arm again, down the straps and then up underneath the plates—checking the fit?—light pressure over Veli’s shirt, up towards his armpit where the skin was sensitive again. “How’s the strap at your neck?”

“Huh?” Veli said, and then kicked his brain into gear again. “Oh. Fine,” he said, flexing his arm to check quickly.

He’d _really_ missed Sorin—his boyfriend Sorin, not that he hadn’t missed his Heterodyne Sorin, too. Two weeks was the longest they’d been separated since the Castle, and fun fights or not it had been… surprisingly difficult. He wanted work time to be over now so he could move onto—

“Did all the hunting packs have a male in them?” Sorin asked, pressing on Veli’s elbow to lower his arm against his side, tugging a bit at the neck of Veli’s shirt to even it out—his fingers dipped just a bit underneath, brushing Veli’s collarbone before pulling away again. His hands smoothed down Veli’s chest, settled at the bottom of his shirt and gave it a quick tug to settle it into place. Veli’s mouth was was a little dry. He cleared his throat.

“Yez, hy tink so,” he said, as Sorin moved away again, walked over to a workbench and picked up a pen. “Mostly he hung beck, really—der ladies did most of der vork.”

“Makes sense,” Sorin said absently, leaned over his notebook and made a few marks, shoulder muscles moving under the damp shirt. “Although maybe it’s not just lions that make mixed sex packs? I’ll have to look into it, it may just be part of the Spark tinkering.”

“Mm,” Veli said, watching Sorin rub at the exposed nape of his neck, reach up absently as he wrote and pull off the bandana, ruffle his hair back into its usual disarray.

“Were there any indications of who made them, then?”

“Uh…” Veli shook his head, pointedly looked away and at the wall. This wasn’t the time, and was disrespectful right now to boot. But really, he’d spent _years_ not even being able to admit out loud that he _wanted_ to touch Sorin, not being allowed now because Sorin was distracted didn’t seem fair. “De Spark? Naw, notting. Ve did find vhere de cheetahs vas denned op, but de madboy didn’t leave ennyting behind dat ve could see. Dere vere about as many packs vhen ve left as vhen ve got dere, though, so he vas probably around.”

Sorin made a non-committal noise, set down his pen. “We’ll have to deal with that, too, then,” he said. “The arm looks okay, let’s try one of the legs. Tell me about the rest of the hunt.”

Sorin on his knees in front of him was just about the last thing Veli needed right now. “Uh,” he said, watching Sorin pull out the leg piece. “Hy dun think ve haff to try it now, mebbe hy ken just give de report und—“

“Hm?” Sorin said, and sunk to the floor in front of Veli, slid it under Veli’s hoof and fitted it snug to Veli’s leg in one smooth motion, hands sliding up Veli’s leg to his thigh looking for the straps. Veli choked on his next protest.

“The rest of the hunt?” Sorin prompted, not looking up from Veli’s leg. He’d found the straps, high on Veli’s thigh, strong fingers pressing firmly just inches away from Veli’s prick as he tightened them. Oh god.

“Ve—um—“ Sorin was standing up again, essentially between Veli’s legs, one hand still on the armor on Veli’s thigh—possessive. “Ve basically just did de same—uh, thing. Again.”

“Yeah?” Sorin said, and there was a kind of note in his tone, a certain breathy—wait. “Maybe we should try the chest plate, too? Let’s take this off.” And his fingers were on the buttons of Veli’s vest, deftly undoing them from the bottom up, and he leaned over and pressed his lips to the skin right above the buckle to the upper arm piece—

“…Hyu _schneak_ ,” Veli accused. He laughed, in spite of himself, reached up and pulled Sorin down, into his lap, turned his head and— _finally_ —kissed him. Sorin grinned against Veli’s mouth, parted his lips, licked his way past his teeth. Veli groaned into his mouth, wrapped an arm—the armored one—around Sorin’s shoulders. His fingers were encased in metal, cold steel against his skin, smooth enough not to catch but muting his sense of touch. He could just feel the heat from Sorin’s skin through it, feel pressure of the metal against his skin against something else. Sorin made asound a bit like an exhale and a bit like a sigh, kissed him harder, pulled back to press his forehead against Veli’s and breathe.

“Not a sneak,” Sorin said, and Veli took a second to remember what he was talking about, distracted by Sorin’s lips, Sorin’s scent, the feel of him across his thighs. “You’re just oblivious.”

“Not,” Veli said, grinning.

“Are too.”

“Nope,” he said, and kissed him again before Sorin could do more than snort at him, wrap his other arm around Sorin’s lower back and pull him so they were chest to chest, reach down to grope his ass through his leather pants. Sorin ran his hands up Velimir’s back, strong and hard, one hand reaching the buckle gripping the leather. Veli growled into Sorin’s mouth, like a purr, felt more than heard Sorin’s answering groan.

“Hyu know,” he said into Sorin’s mouth, letting his unsheathed hand slip under Sorin’s ass, tease his crack. “De vay dis iz set op, hy iz gonna haff en interesting time teking off mine pants.”

“Yeah,” Sorin said, and grinned against Veli’s lips, trailed his lips along his jaw to his jugular. He inhaled deep, lips pressed to Veli’s neck, whispered “that’s the idea” into Veli’s skin.

Sorin went back to doing his level best to leave a hickey on Veli’s neck, right above where the leather was digging into his skin. Veli rolled his head back to give him better access, slid the gauntleted hand into Sorin’s hair to hold him there. Sorin _shuddered_.

Behind Veli, the breeze kicked up, coming in through the grilles in the cabin and the open divider between the cabin and the forge, drying the sweat sticking the shirt to Veli’s skin and sending shivers up his spine. He kissed Sorin again, scratched experimentally at his scalp with the gauntleted hand. Sorin ground down when he did, dug his fingers into Veli’s shoulder blades, friction and pressure and heat. Veli arched back.

“Clothes?” he suggested, sliding his ungauntleted hand up to tug at Sorin’s shirt.

“Oh god,” Sorin said, and laughed. “Yeah. Yes.” He kissed Veli again, slid out of Veli’s hands—Veli felt momentarily bereft without Sorin’s weight on his thighs—and unbuttoned his shirt halfway, fighting with the buttons, before visibly giving up and just tugging it over his head.

Veli snickered. “De great und powerful Sorin Petrescu Heterodyne,” he said, reaching over to take Sorin’s belt, more out of a desire to touch than a desire to help. “Defeated by a few buttons.” Sorin snorted at him, rolled his eyes—even after everything, he still didn’t really consider himself powerful, it was _adorable_ —ran his hands up Veli’s arms and let Veli undo his pants.

Veli slipped them down his hips—mostly with the hand without the armor, and thank god Sorin was too distracted to notice Veli fumbling too. Stepped out of them sweaty and naked and all, _all_ Velimir’s. Even here, in the center of Sorin’s forge on Sorin’s anvil wearing Sorin’s armor. Veli grinned at him, bracketed his hips with both hands and pulled him back down.

They kissed some more, Sorin gloriously naked in Veli’s lap, pressed close and arching his back every time Velimir ran the gauntleted hand down his spine, reminded him it was there. Sorin unlaced Veli’s shirt, pressed their chests together skin to skin, dug his callused fingers into Veli’s back under his sweat-soaked shirt the way that would leave bruises on a normal person. Veli bucked again, all instinct, had to grab Sorin quickly so he didn’t unbalance and fall off.

Sorin sputtered, started laugh half out of surprise, crumpled against Veli’s chest still snickering. Veli buried his grin in Sorin’s hair, inhaled sweat and steel and Heterodyne and Sorin, Sorin, Sorin. “Whoops,” he said, laconically.

Sorin huffed another laugh, kissed Veli’s collarbone, amused and silly and smiling like he couldn’t stop. “Okay,” he said, into Veli’s skin. “Okay, maybe we need to try something else.” He ran a hand down Veli’s chest, still not looking up, let it settle on Veli’s belt, undid the clasp quickly and slid his hand inside to wrap around Velimir’s prick.

Veli’s eyes crossed. “Hy… dun tink dat’s going to solve de problem,” he said, as Sorin wrapped his hand around Veli and gave him a firm, slow pull. He rolled his hips into Sorin’s hand, carefully enough he wouldn’t dislodge him. Sorin huffed against Veli’s chest, face hot enough that Veli could tell he was the color of a beet even without looking, scooted forward a bit on Veli’s thighs until he could wrap his legs around Veli’s waist, could press his prick against Veli’s, wrap his hand around them both. “Oh,” Veli said, feeling a little dazed. “Hokay, dat vorks, goot plan,” and he tilted Sorin’s face up, leaned in to kiss him before Sorin could respond, deep and hot and with teeth.

He tightened his arms around Sorin’s back as Sorin sped up, spread out his own hands to feel Sorin gasp at the metal encasing Veli’s palm and fingers, cool against hot, sweaty skin. Felt the muscles of Sorin’s back working as he pumped them both, strong and hard, calluses scraping against the sensitive skin there, just the right side of rough, catching on the head.Sorin was panting into Veli’s mouth, now, legs tightening around Veli’s waist, and Veli scratched his hands down Sorin’s back—too lightly to bleed, but with both hands, and Sorin _arched_ his back, crying out, thrust again into his own hand and came hot and wet. The scent of sex and heat and Sorin filled the air, and Veli bit down on Sorin’s shoulder, just hard enough to hold on, thrust two, three, four more times and came, eyes screwed shut and panting into Sorin’s skin.

They stayed there for a while, just breathing each other in, as their heartbeats slowed and the occasional breeze cooled the sweat on their skin. Sorin stirred first, shivering a little. “Wow,” he said, sounding almost speculative.

“Mm,” Veli agreed.

“No, I mean…” Sorin turned his head to nuzzle into Veli’s neck. “I don’t think that was even on the list.”

Veli cracked up.

The List had been created about a month after they’d finally, _finally_ gotten around to giving in and having sex, mostly at Sorin’s insistence. He’d sat there at a desk in Mechanicsburg, very seriously writing down an itemized list of positions and orgasm inducing activities, bright red and valiantly ignoring Veli as he laughed himself sick on the bed. It had been a pretty comprehensive list, honestly, even if they’d managed to do about three quarters of it in the month since they’d started.

Well, they’d done about three quarters of it until Veli had added his two cents, anyway, at which point they’d successfully done about a third of it.

“Vhich bit,” he asked, when he’d finally gotten himself under control again. “De armor porn or de…” he paused for dramatic effect, “dueling svords.” Sorin groaned and whacked him upside the head, refusing to pull his head up to acknowledge Veli’s terrible innuendos.

“Sometimes I wonder what I did wrong with my life to end up with you,” he mused, tightening his arms around Veli’s shoulders to show he absolutely didn’t mean it even a little bit. “No, I was thinking the ‘having sex on my anvil’, though come to think of it ‘armor porn’ is _also_ not on the list.”

“Hyu ken add dem both,” Veli offered magnanimously, turning his head to nuzzle at Sorin’s hair. “Dat vay hyu ken cross dem both off!”

“I hate you.”

“Haha, liar.”

Come to think of it, Sorin may not have thought about sex on his anvil before, but _Veli_ certainly had. And in front of his forge, with the heat pouring out, and up against the divider, and just outside against the hot metal walls and—wow, he’d been pretty lax in his list-making, hadn’t he? He’d have to rectify that, once Sorin stopped zealously guarding the list and blushing every time Veli suggested he needed to make an addition. Hmmmm…

Sorin didn’t dignify Veli with a response, just cuddled up to Veli again, sighed out, shoulders relaxed and leaning into Veli’s chest. “I need to get up and… do things,” he muttered, making no move to do that in the slightest. “At the very least I should actually listen to your report, and we should fit the rest of the armor—“

“Sveethart, dere iz no vay hy iz gonna be able to vear dis armor in combat,” Veli said.

“You’ll wear it if it’ll stop you getting mauled, and you’ll like it,” Sorin grumbled.

“Vell den,” Veli returned, “de enemy iz gonna haff a grand old time beating me op in mine tin can vhile hy picture hyu straddling me like dis.”

“Oh my god, you _jerk_ ,” Sorin snapped, and pushed himself off Veli’s chest, mouth set in ‘trying not to laugh’, blushing to his hair. Veli laughed at him, nicely, kissed him on the temple. Sorin smacked his shoulder, finally extracted himself from Veli’s lap. “Okay, let’s go, we’re going to get to work now.”

“Yes, _sir_ ,” Veli said, “only mine pants iz schticking to mine skin, und iz schtarting to get a leedle uncomfortable.”

Sorin blinked, and then somehow turned even _redder_ as he realized that meant Veli had the options of either walking down the Caterpillar with a stain on the front of his pants, or walking down in _no pants at all_.

“Oh god,” he said. “I did not think this through—Velimir! Veli don’t you dare—“

Veli had already walked to the door, re-fastening his pants on the way—no point taking the armor off now, and if he left the forge with his pants stained, undone, _and_ held up only by the armor fastened to one leg Sorin really _would_ kill him. He opened it to thunderous applause and catcalls, saluted his troops with a fatuous grin, and marched down the transport to the car where he’d left his pack. They were all just jealous he was getting laid, really, he didn’t care one bit if they teased. He accepted a high five from Stani on the way, and then slipped into the last car, still grinning.

Sorin would probably take some cajoling to get out of the forge later, mind, but Veli had a few ideas on how to do it. He still had a report to finish, after all…


End file.
